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joriz m Aug 16
maybe people are right
when they said
"i would look pretty
when i smile"

but for now
i am happy being ugly
till the day
these perverts die
Indiana May 7
Are you human?
A CAPTCHA
To sort human form software
Just read warped letters
Recognize overlapping characters
Decipher obfuscated text
And that's it!
Is that it?
Does it prove I'm a human?
Despite...
Being unattended at home
Being neglected amongst peers
And suffering  all the cat calling and street harassment
May be?
May be not?
As for me...
Am I a human?
Well, I remember being one
But
I am not sure
anymore...
Each time the website ask me to prove that I am a human, it is astonishing to see how easy it is and how hard is that...
heather leather Jul 2018
it's unnerving how easily a pair of eyes strip me down
and take away every layer of defense
I have built up over the years.
hey sweetie, why don't you come over here?
because I don't want to, because you're repulsive
and your voice is scary and I felt your eyes on me
from the instant I crossed the street and I was hoping
you wouldn't speak.
want me to show you a good time?
but I was having the best time before I knew you existed,
when I was still just a person walking home
and the silent threats you make hadn't made it to
the horizon of my mind
****, what you doing walking around with hips like those?
hips like these belong to my mother and
her mother and all of the women that have come
before me. in my body I possess history and blood
so strong it was only ever spilled during times of war.
how dare you. attempt to take that strength and power and pride
away from me. don't you know that I am magic,
that my body exists as art only
I should be allowed to admire
who gave you permission to steal from god's temple?
[I still see the dark look in your eyes
when you said that to me, the emptiness of
your pupils haunt me. they say that you see
me as nothing more than a body, a corpse.
someone to walk over.
someone to conquer.
you licked your lips and winked, the
wrinkles in your skin were clear even in the dark
and I could see that your two front teeth were
missing, so now I can't stop having nightmares
you grabbing me and tearing me apart, using
the same legs you whistled at as toothpicks]
why are you walking so ******* fast?
because you are terrifying. because I know
despite how brittle your bones may appear
there is a large chance if you catch me I won't
escape. because the risk of not escaping is an
automatic death to me in every sense of
the word. because I have friends, and they have
told me how their bodies were pillaged at the
hands of men like you.
who the **** do you think you are?
I think I am an island and I wish you
wouldn't insist on being so intrusive.
******* too, *****
I just want to go home. I just want to go home.
why can't you let me do that?
you're not even that pretty anyway
when I met up with my best friend
she hugged me
and said I smelled like vanilla,
that I got more beautiful over the summer,
and that boys are going to lose their minds
when they see me.
my mother shows me off
boastfully, brags about my small waist like it
is a trophy, tells all my family that I am
peligrosamente hermosa,
dangerously beautiful.
and I believed them until I met you.
after an incident yesterday where I was walking home and a man and his group of friends started catcalling me, they ended up following me until I took refuge in my local supermarket and hid there until it was clear they had left. for anyone who feels like they are being followed: trust your instincts, it is much better to be safe than sorry. go into the nearest store and stay there until it is safe for you to leave or even better, until someone can escort you home. I wish desperately we didn't live in a society where women's bodies are dehumanized and threatened on a daily basis.
thoughts?
Dark Ink May 2018
Let me apologize, to begin with because of my body type.
I will NEVER be good enough for anyone to date due to current 'hype.'
You know, the battle of 'bones' vs curves?
Just let me inflate myself to the  right number so I can properly serve
As the perfect specimen for your delicate eyes.
Obviously no one is good enough unless they've got decent thighs.

But just wait a ******* minute, because here I am again:
So let me apologize, to begin with, if I offend
You or your friends who think they're too good
To date someone size zero with some extra love under the hood.
How many times have I heard you exclaim in disgust
Of how large she is and how you'd drown in her,
If you even got near her? I saw you shaking in fear.
From your head to your toes, you were trembling dear.

See I'm told to eat less and maybe, just maybe
But if I was skinny, and let's tell the truth,
You'd be so disgusted by my looks .

I could eat a salad and still gain a pound ,
She could eat a salad and the crunch is the only sound
You hear a mile away and yet you would assume
That burgers and French fries is all that she consumed.
Do you ever stop to think, ladies and gents?
The true beauty of someone isn't based on the number on their pants.

So, let me apologize, to begin with,
If I bruise your massive ego,
But the way to tell if she's the perfect woman is not by your libido
I’ve always been insecure about my size and how I look. I still am ...  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love myself .. but I’m trying to. It takes a lot of self love, confidence and courage to stand up to someone who calls you out.
Skylar Turner Mar 2018
13
i am 13 years old and in a brand new
yellow two piece swim suit when
your gaze flickers up then down

you are 21 and it is okay because
i “look old enough to be 18”
but my mother doesn’t think so

she snaps at you to “keep your
eyes in your head boy before you
lose ‘em i promise you that”

i am embarrassed for all the wrong
reasons but it doesn’t click
until years later when i realize it

i wanted my mother to keep it down
let him look but don’t let him touch
it’s okay mom it’s flattering to me

but it is not okay
i was not embarrassed because my
mother had every right

i was ashamed from the way his
male gaze swept across my body
as if he were searching for a meal

i was ashamed because i thought
that’s how women got complimented
how girls were suppose to behave

i was ashamed because “am i
not **** enough for him mom
should no man look at me?”

i was ashamed because i
was 13 and it was the first time
i was introduced to sexuality

but now i am not ashamed
i am angry because
i am not the only one
Maine Dela Cruz Nov 2017
“Nice ***.”
It might be obscene to begin a poem
with *****
the way strangers in the sidewalk
begin conversations with Anatomy
or Algebra when they ask
for an exchange of numbers
like old friends meeting at the subway
on a hot Sunday afternoon.
Quit Science
when the only thing you know
is to scrutinize a woman’s body,
identifying which parts would satisfy
your carnal desires.

When I was nine
and the curves in my body
were not yet defined,
when “***” was just a word
I read on forms we used to fill to know
if one is male or female,
I happened to pass by a group of boys
who laughed at the top of their lungs
over a bottle of *****
after one of them remarked something
about my “flower”
when I wasn’t even holding one.

I did not fully understand what they meant
but then and there I felt fear,
then and there I learned
that a flower’s not a flower in the context of
profanity
how they grinned as they
masked their grim faces
with laughters and remarks
like predators lurking in the shadows
of their sisters, wives, and daughters.

Looking back
and thinking how I was violated
the first time when I was nine
and my curves were not yet defined,
I laughed because twelve years later here I am,
still replaying inside my head
the voices of men who acted
as if they own my body,
who decided to steal from me
what is only mine to give
as they wait for another prey
to caress their whiskers in the sidewalk.
A poem about catcalling.
Emily Oct 2017
When I walk to work I keep my earphones in
Music doesn’t even have to play
Maybe that way I can ignore the whistles
Just 4 more blocks and I’ll be there

Okay things are looking good
Those group of men aren’t outside today
I can relax now
Just 3 more blocks and I’ll be there

Wait no that car is slowing down
Please don’t say anything to me
“Hey baby”
Just pretend you don’t hear it
Don’t look his way
He will just keep on driving
Just 2 more blocks and I’ll be there

Okay now there’s another group of men
I see children outside that home all the time
They wouldn’t dare catcall me when they have daughters of their own
Just incase put in the other earphone so they think you can’t hear them
They keep staring
Oh no they’re going to say something
That dreadful whistling begins
“Hey girl”
“Aye”
“Gorgeous”
It goes on until I pass and have shown no sign of response
Just 1 more blocks and I’ll be there

Okay now the earphones go out
I have to put my phone away before I get into work so I can be prepared to answer phones
Just don’t make eye contact with any men
“Hi beautiful”
“How you doin today”
“What you shy”
Yup now I’m done
“Nah I’m actually 15 and my day was going great”
He’s not walking away
Please leave me alone
Don’t worry just 3 more doors

“I love your hair”
Oh are you sure it wasn’t my ***
But I don’t dare say that
Don’t worry just 2 more doors

“You got a phone”
“Can I get your number”
Was the age not enough, is this man stupid
Maybe I’ll just say I’m gay and he’ll leave me alone
Don’t worry just 1 more door

“Okay I see”
“See you again”
No thank you
Please don’t try to speak to me again
I can’t wait till I can just drive to work

I’ve made it inside
In here there are other people around
I will smile to keep from being rude
While declining any source of unwanted attention
Can they not see I’m a child
I tell them I’m only 15 years old
Sometimes that doesn’t matter
Now I just want to go home
Women do not owe you their time or conversation. Women are not outside for your entertainment.
Samantha C Jul 2017
When I was young I promised myself that when I grew up and got hot,
If I ever got cat-called, I would react.
I would scream,
Kick the bumper of their car,
Throw my overpriced drink in their face,
Be angry be ******,
Take no **** from anyone who dared to look at me.

I grew up.
I'm not hot,
I'm okay enough to look at,
Okay enough to earn the attention of two middle aged children in a ****** silver four door car.
I promised myself
I would react.

I froze.
Took another faulty step
Felt my ankle struggle under the weight
The ends of my pants brushing my toes
Blood rising to my face.
Not a blush.
I was not flattered.
An inferno.
My mind in flames.
The heat trapped by my mouth
Glued shut by $20 lipstick from a brand owned by someone who hates what I am.

Didn't I promise myself?
I didn't react.
Hardly moved a muscle.
Too slow to even furrow my manicured eyebrows in rage.

I know now
That the world will always be cruel.
And the world will always think I'm
Hot
Beautiful
****
Cute
Attractive

So what good is having my own pretty face
When everyone else thinks that it's theirs?
Nobody will ever own me
Not even myself.
Maggie Huston Oct 2016
it was a late night
we were walking alongside a road
quiet was the air with the exception of the rare
car passing
but then out of the darkness
it came

the car was all windows down
rap music busting through worn speakers
yells and whistles penetrating our ears
yet we walked on

but the monster crept back
hungry for our power
preying on our innocence
maiming us with their words

and just like that it was finished with us
it slunk off into darkness
never to be seen again
Coward.
Hey I'm 14 years old and my name is Maggie, hope you enjoy!
it's a college party
even though i never finished and the rest of y'all are spending money you don't have on the ingredients necessary for homemade sangria so you can drink the crippling anxiety of not knowing how to pay off your student loans away

there's a man living in a tent in the backyard, and i'm pretty sure we put one too many pieces of scrap wood in that very-hard-to-maintain bonfire. that has to be a metaphor for the state of most of our lives. stop throwing things i'm unprepared for in what already feels like a situation that is going to **** me.

is this a literal housewarming

i'm drunk, and sitting on the deck, counting the christmas lights. i smell ****, and there are white people dancing and singing to blink 182 inside.

i paint my name on a drywall with a brush and canisters i find on my way to the living room, where i'm asked to referee a game of beer pong. i lose interest quickly.

i scroll through my phone, sober enough not to text you but drunk enough to desperately want to. someone sits down next to me because i've apparently become that person at the party.

i talk about rent with a guy who really wants to connect on the fact that we're both middle eastern, even though i'm not middle eastern. he smells like PBR and completely believes what he's saying. he says he's proud of me for following my dreams of coming to new york and that he likes my "crazy hair" and that he wants to **** me.

i raise my eyebrows, more in disgust than interest, but he then takes his perceived cue to shamelessly ask me if i have a ******. i don't, and i leave before he brainstorms any alternatives i am just as aversive to.

ironically, i find a ****** dispenser attached to a tree on the walk to the subway. considering the amount of catcalling i experienced on the way to the station, my level of discomfort is amplified by the fact that the neighbourhood literally, physically implies, ******* is going to happen in the streets. it's 2am, and i just want to go home. and i'm sitting on the J train, recalling everyone who's told me it's shady and unreliable and makes you feel like you're going to die.

a few months later, i am nicknamed J train.
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